


Once Upon a Dream

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Community: daily_deviant, F/M, Incest, Masquerade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa finds herself drawn to a dashing young man at a masked ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This one was especially hard for me because I have already done so many different things for daily_deviant that it was hard to come up with something different that I knew I'd actually be able to write. I think this one's pretty unique from anything I've done before. It was done with a _lot_ of encouragement and other help from NyxNoire, who helped me with both characters and planning the setting. I hope people will like it. Narcissa's mask is [this headdress](http://www.getprice.com.au/images/uploadimg/650/_1_Cleopatra-headpiece.thumb.jpg%20) with a black mask trimmed in gold. Her outfit is a long white sheath-dress, beaded, with a gold collar that goes over her shoulders. Sirius is wearing the classic Musketeer outfit, complete with feathered cap and a domino mask, with shoulder-length hair.

The room was filled with dozens of people dressed in glittering clothes, each mask more exotic than the last. But then, Wizarding folk always did like to outdo one another. It really was only to be expected. Especially at a gala like this.

After a particularly bad summer, with attacks coming nearly daily, Narcissa had decided to do something about it, trying her best to ignore the fact that her husband might well have been behind one or even all of the attacks himself. With the help of her friends, they had arranged a fundraising ball—ticket funds going to help those who had been hurt in the attacks, and to fostering out the children who had been made orphans. It was the least she could do, and as the leader of her group of friends, it was only to be expected that she herself would host the event.

Narcissa brushed a piece of non-existent lint from her beaded Cleopatra gown, then shook back the hair of her wig. Where was Lucius, anyway? She glanced around the room to see if she could catch sight of him, but he'd vanished again. She wondered if he was with one of his "friends," or some floozy who'd open her legs for anyone. Either way, she supposed it didn't really matter. It wasn't like he'd have touched her either way. He hadn't since the night they'd married.

She made her way around the room again, greeting each person she recognized—some costumes were more obvious than others—and taking a few turns on the dance floor when they were offered. At least tonight she had other ways to occupy herself than wondering why Lucius had bothered to marry her at all.

After a dance with the old Minister, who had tried to keep up the pretense of his Phantom of the Opera costume—who was he kidding, anyway? He was practically old enough to be her grandfather. He was also far too dumpy to fill out a Muggle tuxedo well—she made her way to the refreshment table to get a glass of champagne, then looked around.

It was a good mix of people tonight. Many whom she recognized easily by their costumes, and many more whom she did not. There was a particularly dashing Musketeer who had been making the rounds that she had yet to place.

She'd seen him flirting with a number of the women at the party, and so she'd kept a watch out for him. It was only to make certain he didn't cause trouble, she told herself. Even if the sight of his dashing grin did make her stomach do flips. He was just a charming rake, that was all. Besides, she was a married woman. No matter what she wanted, she wasn't free to be pursued any longer.

She caught sight of him across the dance floor, smiling wide at the young woman he was speaking with. Before he could lead her to the dance floor, however, another young man caught her arm. He was glowering at both of them, and it was obvious that the Musketeer had chosen the wrong girl to flirt with. The couple moved away, and Narcissa watched them go. At least it hadn't turned into a fight.

The couple disappeared into the hall, and Narcissa's gaze turned back to the Musketeer—who was looking directly at her. It startled her, and she quickly dropped her gaze, then glanced back up to see if he was still looking. He was. Not only that, but he was making his way around the dance floor to where she stood.

For just a moment, she considered flight. Then she remembered that she was not only a Black, but a Malfoy now. So instead, she raised her chin and watched as he approached.

He had an especially charming smile, and surprisingly kind eyes, despite the slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. She thought he reminded her of someone, but couldn't think who. Certainly not Lucius. Lucius had never looked that open and friendly in his life. Not even as a toddler. She should know. She'd seen enough pictures.

He swept off his hat, bowing low. "Your Majesty. What a pleasure it is to meet a lady of your elegance in a place like this." When he looked up, he was grinning even wider than before, and Narcissa found it impossible to resist smiling back.

"And you, monsieur? What brings a man such as you to a place like this?" She couldn't seem to wipe the smile from her face. It was like a breath of fresh air, speaking to him. His humour seemed to fill the room with light that had not been there before.

"Ah, merely a way to fill the evening, though I had no idea I would meet a queen. I am, indeed, honoured."

"And did you bring your fellows as well?" she asked, though she had seen only him dressed as a musketeer so far that evening. Perhaps he had asked others, and she had just not caught sight of them?

He sighed. "I am afraid I am on my own this evening. The others…were otherwise occupied. Even Porthos, who would normally jump at a fete such as this one, already had several such gatherings to attend this evening. I am afraid you will have to be content only with my humble self." He bowed his head again, and Narcissa had to hide a giggle behind her painted fan.

"You will do… d'Artagnan, I believe?"

She grinned at his surprise. "I am flattered one such as yourself would know my name." He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. "Oh queen of queens. But…pray tell…where is Caesar tonight? Surely he would not leave one so beautiful as yourself all alone on a night like tonight?"

Though she tried not to let her annoyance show, she was certain she'd failed. "He is…otherwise occupied." She sipped at her glass, trying to push back her annoyance before meeting his eyes once more.

He watched her for a moment, then smiled. "Well…if he is so foolish as to leave you alone, then I suppose I shall have to step in and take his place…" He took her hand. "A dance, perhaps?"

Despite herself, she glanced around the room to see if Lucius was anywhere in sight. He wasn't, of course, and she turned back to the Musketeer. "Very well." What could it hurt, after all? It was just a dance.

He smiled, and she found herself smiling back. Usually as hostess, she danced with Lucius, or with gentlemen who were old enough to be her grandfather—or letches. This young man honestly wanting to dance with her made a very nice change.

They moved onto the dance floor, and fell into the rhythm of the dance together so easily that Narcissa couldn't help but wonder who this might be. It was almost as though they had danced together before. She frowned a moment, but curiosity finally got the better of her. "Have we danced before, monsieur?"

His eyes widened slightly, and she wondered if he had noticed the familiarity too. Then he smiled, the expression seeming a promise of…something. "Only in my dreams, dear Queen."

She felt her cheeks heat at the answer, then glanced over his shoulder to try to regain her composure. In hopes of distracting herself, she focused on other, simpler questions. "And have you been enjoying yourself tonight?"

"It was amusing at first," he answered lightly.

Amusing? She glanced up at him again, wondering what he meant by that. "And now?"

Her breath caught as he pulled her slightly closer as they spun. "I am…enthralled," he said softly, meeting her eyes.

She felt her cheeks heat. "Oh. I…"

"Never fear, my lady. I would not take advantage." A silence stretched out between them before he spoke again. "Unless one was offered?" he whispered.

Narcissa struggled for a response, finally falling back on their costume banter from before. "Caesar…" she began, but he cut her response short by pressing a finger to her lips.

"Is not here by your side, as he should be. Surely a beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn't be left alone in a room full of men. If he is not wise enough to know that, then perhaps he does not deserve to have such a prize."

"And I am simply a prize to be won?" she asked now, feeling her temper rise to the surface.

He shook his head. "Oh, no, my Queen. You are…so much more. Were you mine, I would whisk you from this place and show you just how a man should properly worship you."

Her anger faded with his words, and she was tempted to take him up on the offer, but what if someone found out? "You…are quite charming. I can see why Louis's queen fell for you."

She saw his confusion, and wondered if he truly knew the story of the Musketeers, but then he chuckled. "Indeed. But she pales in comparison to you, oh queen of queens."

"You are even more silver tongued than I would have guessed, d'Artagnan …" she said to hide her flustered state. At one time, she'd have expected such words from a man, but after several years as Lucius's bride, she'd grown used to doing without, and it was a bit overwhelming to feel so wanted once more.

"Not at all, your Majesty. Merely inspired," he told her with a soft smile.

Before she could answer, the music ended, and she took a step away from him, pulling out of his arms, though what she truly wanted was to press closer. "And where might that inspiration lead?" she asked him softly, wondering how far he would take this.

"You asked before…if we had ever danced together at another time? Perhaps…we could walk…and discuss when we might have danced?"

Despite the admonitions from her father and sister's voices in her head at the thought of this man knowing who she truly was, the offer was more than simply tempting. "But…you said it was…only in your dreams."

"Perhaps they were not my dreams alone," he answered softly, holding out a hand.

She looked at it for longer than was proper before taking it, the heat of his hand traveling up her arm and into her cheeks once more. "Perhaps…a short walk, then," she said softly.

His thumb stroked over the back of her hand, and he smiled. "I would like that."

They walked out the doors, and into the garden, but neither said a word. Narcissa knew it should feel awkward, but instead, it simply felt right. There were other couples wandering the garden. Some were talking softly, others doing more intimate things that made Narcissa look away.

Before long, she realized where her feet were taking her: her private greenhouse. The question was, did this man know her well enough to recognize that only she was able to enter it? She wavered for a moment, then decided if she had gone this far, why not see where this would take her? After all, Lucius never hesitated in his own conquests. It was only fair she be allowed her own lovers, if this man were willing.

"There's a place we might go…if…you don't mind?" she said, looking up at him.

He tilted his head, then nodded. "Lead the way, my Queen," he said softly.

Tightening her grip on his hand, she led the way down a path away from the rest of the guests, and to a small greenhouse where she liked to sit to be alone with her thoughts. "No one should be able to bother us here," she told him, opening the door.

He hesitated for a moment before following her inside, and Narcissa worried that he had guessed who she was, but then he took her into his arms. "Are you sure that this is what you wish?" he asked in a whisper.

Her voice wouldn't come, but she nodded, then stretched up to kiss him softly on the lips.

It was like no kiss she'd shared before. The soft press of lips only made her needy for more, and she tilted her head, moaning as she felt his tongue lick lightly over her lower lip. She opened her mouth at the caress, and he willingly took the invitation, growling softly as he pulled her closer, his kiss increasing in intensity to the point where it made her whimper.

She broke away after a moment, taking his hand and leading him to a small fountain and a bench she often sat upon to think. They settled on the bench together and he reached up to pull off her mask, but she shied away. "Not yet. Please." She wasn't ready for reality to intrude just yet. She certainly wasn't ready for him to realize who she was. "Just…a bit longer."

Before he could argue, she was kissing him again, and she only relaxed when she felt his arms go around her waist, pulling her closer. She wanted to know for sure who he was, but now the stakes were too high. If he knew, there was little chance he would stay and become the lover of Lucius Malfoy's wife.

He kissed her deeply, then began to kiss lightly down her neck. "So beautiful," he whispered.

She clutched at the back of his shirt, tilting her head to the side and feeling more undone now than she had the first time Lucius had shown her attention. That had been a victory. This was something else entirely. She never wanted it to stop.

Her hands slid up, and she pulled off his cap, so that she could tangle her hands in his dark, shoulder length hair. However, the familiarity of the texture brought her back to herself. It couldn't be him…could it?

Though Narcissa had had many men who wished to be her suitors, she had allowed almost none to get this close. One had been Lucius. The other had become her sister's husband. And while Rodolphus Lestrange had had long, dark hair, his had never been so fine.

No, she had a very good idea now, who her mystery musketeer might be. She fought the image of the face that swam before her eyes, denying that he would be here. Surely he wouldn't be so stupid. He and Lucius were on opposite sides of the war… To come here alone would be madness.

When he kissed her again, she opened her eyes, hoping that she had misremembered the colour of his eyes, but knowing she had not. Far-too familiar grey met her own, and with it, the memory of a kiss one solstice night under mistletoe when she'd been fifteen. The adults had been in another room, and no one else had known. He'd been too young then, and she too ashamed of an attraction she should not have to allow it again.

She knew she should stop this now, before it became more. But something inside her craved it, and she leaned in to kiss him once more, his name swallowed by the kiss.

His hand slid down her side, then gently tugged up the skirt of her dress and slid his hand under, then up the inside of her thigh, brushing her panties. She moaned, feeling the effect he'd already had on her by how damp she'd grown. Though she'd not admitted it even to herself, she'd wanted this since he was old enough to want. And if she'd read him right, he'd felt the same. It had only been their age difference and the fact that they were so closely related that had stopped her. Still, they were only cousins. It wasn't as though they were brother and sister.

She let her legs fall open, kissing him as his hand slid along the inside of her thigh again. It felt so good. To be touched. To be wanted like this. She couldn't stop now.

If she were honest with herself, she didn't really want to. Especially if it were him.

She moaned when his fingers brushed over her panties again, pressing against her through the thin cloth. She was startled when he echoed the sound. "No need to ask if you are sure, my Queen," he said with a smile.

She returned the smile, though her heart ached. She wanted more than this. More than just a night. But if this were truly Sirius… Her fingers itched to tug off his mask and be done with it, while another part of her mind urged her to run and never look back.

Instead, she fought both urges and kissed him. "Just…don't stop."

"Never," he said, eyes dark now. He kissed her again, rubbing his fingers against her through the panties, and she pressed into the touch, moaning again. Even when she'd wanted desperately to be Lucius Malfoy's bride, she'd never wanted that as much as she wanted this.

Groaning, he tugged her panties down, helping her out of them, then pulled his wand from his sleeve, padding the bench to make it more comfortable and pressing her back onto it.

She quickly returned the favour, her hands undoing the laces of his breeches, feeling the heat and hardness of him through the cloth even before she managed to get them open.

"I hadn't expected you to be so eager," he said, kissing her again.

She smirked. "And here I thought you knew all about me. I am…quite hot-blooded, when enticed." She was surprised how eager she sounded, even to herself. All she wanted was to feel him inside her. "Don't stop now. We're just getting to the good part…"

"No…I wouldn't dare leave you wanting, your Majesty…" He kissed her again, his tongue stroking over the roof of her mouth, then tangling around her tongue as he pressed her back into the cushions.

"Want you," she whispered when he pulled away.

"Yes," he answered, sitting up and tugging at his shirt. A few of the buttons popped free, but he didn't seem to care, too desperate to get his clothes off to worry about a few buttons. She helped him undress, her nails accidentally scratching his chest in her haste to free him from his clothes. He hissed, but pushed into the feeling, so she scratched over his chest deliberately this time, watching as his eyes closed in pleasure and filing the fact away for future reference.

She sat up to kiss the scratch marks, loving the groan he made at that, then looked up at him. "Ready, monsieur?"

"Very, my Queen…" He pressed her into the cushions once more, arms around her as they kissed, grinding against her. He pushed up her dress, kissing lightly over her breasts before shifting to kiss her again.

The feeling of him, hot and hard against her, her juices making him slick, made something twist deep inside her, and she couldn't hold back a moan. "Please…need you." Even as she said the words, she pictured the man she suspected and most hoped was behind that mask, her breaths coming faster at the thought of being with him.

"Yes," he answered, kissing her deeply as his hips shifted, and she keened into his mouth as she felt him slide easily into her. The few times she'd lain with Lucius, it had never felt this perfect. She never wanted this to end.

He had kissed down her neck, and cupped a breast. "Beautiful lady…" He gave a soft thrust, and she moaned, moaning louder when his lips closed around her nipple, sucking it gently.

"Oh…my lord…don't stop…"

He grinned, thrusting again in a way that made her arch and cry out, her fingers scrabbling at his back. "Oh…ah! Yesss!" She clenched around him, pulling him deeper. That made him groan around her nipple, and she shuddered. Nothing had ever felt this good before. "Oh, please," she moaned.

He slid up to kiss her, and began to thrust faster. "Ah…knew you would be a wildcat, my Queen," he whispered, kissing her again.

"A queen only deserves the best," she said, then pushed his face back down to her breasts, moaning when he began to suck at them again. She'd needed this for so long. Each thrust drove her closer to the edge, and his mouth, hot and wet around her nipples, his teeth grazing over them only made her fly higher. "Ah! S…" She swallowed the name. If it were him, she didn't want him to know, and if it weren't, she didn't want to scare him away.

But who else could it truly be? Only one person had ever made her act foolish enough not to care. Perhaps she should have gone to see him before the wedding, but now it was too late. If this was all they could have, then she would take it. "Yess," she moaned, clenching around him. "Don't stop…don't ever stop…"

He'd noticed, though. She'd felt him still against her for the moment. At her urging, he began to move once more, shifting to kiss up her neck, then kiss her slow and deep before pulling back to look into her eyes. His thumb brushed her cheek, and she realized it was damp. But she couldn't let him stop. Not now. She pulled him into a kiss again, her hand sliding down between them to stroke herself, fingers slick with her juices.

His fingers joined hers, and she showed him how to touch her. "Like that…oooh…yes…" she whispered.

He growled softly, then kissed her once more. "My lady…all mine…"

Cissa closed her eyes, breath hitching as she tried to control a sob, her emotions overwhelming her. "Yes," she whispered. "Yours." Then she kissed him again, scared to open her eyes for fear her tears would spill.

Instead, she focused on the moment; having him here now, inside her, wanting her. There was no tomorrow, just this moment; their bodies moving together, lips and tongues and hand and need and… She had to stop herself there, to keep from going too far. This could only ever be a moment, after all, no matter who he ended up being.

She kissed him again, letting his thrusts and the feeling of his fingers on her clit push her to the edge, and then over, her cry swallowed in their kiss. Instead, she clung to him, toes curling at the feeling, clenching around him as her whole body rocked with her orgasm.

He slowed, kissing her softly as she recovered, then began to move again, and she realized he had yet to come. Her hands slid down his back, and she drew her nails back up, making him groan and thrust deeper, watching his face as his climax built. "That's right…show me…I want to see it, monsieur. Show me you are mine…"

His eyes met hers, and she watched as his expression shifted—hunger, need, determination…and then that final glorious moment, feeling him still deep inside her as he came with a growl, his head dropping down to her shoulder as his climax faded.

She clung to him after, a leg curled around his hips, not wanting the moment to end. Hating the thought of returning to that ballroom and once again becoming Mrs Lucius Malfoy.

Then there was the other worry tugging at her heart. What if this hadn't been who she suspected? She found she couldn't bear not knowing for certain. "Please," she whispered into his hair. "Please tell me…it's you." The words sounded ridiculous, and she pulled away to meet his eyes, to clarify, but he was already pulling off his mask.

Sirius smiled down at her, and she felt her heart constrict, nearly missing his words.

"Now it's your turn, Cissa."

She smiled ruefully. Had he known all along? But then, how could he not? Even as she carefully pulled off her mask, revealing her blonde hair, she had to ask. "How long?"

"Since we came out to the garden. Who else would know these gardens so well to find this place?"

Embarrassed at her blunder, she looked away, but Sirius drew her chin back and kissed her softly. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?" he asked her.

She shook her head, intending to tell him it had been a bad idea, but he spoke over her. "Since that kiss. Wanted you even then, though…I didn't really understand what I wanted. Just…that you should have been mine," he whispered.

"But I'm not, Sirius." Even as she denied it, her arms tightened around him. "I can't be. Lucius…he's a dangerous man when crossed, and now…I'm his. I can't leave. He'd never let me go."

Sirius's eyes glinted at that. "Things could change in a heartbeat, Cissa…"

She shook her head, terrified of the thought that Sirius might go against Lucius just to get him out of his way. "Don't. Please. I know you think your…little group…" He gave a laugh at that, but she put her fingers in his lips. "I know you think they're powerful, but you don't know…can't know… Sirius…promise me you'll be careful."

Though he nodded after a moment, she could still see that familiar, stubborn look that had led to so many arguments with his mother when he had been at home. "I promise not to let him hurt me, Cissa. Or you. If you ever need anything…"

She kissed him again. Better that than to give into the tears that were threatening to fall once more. "I swear I'll owl."

"For anything, Cissa. Promise me."

She wouldn't, and they both knew it. But at least now she knew…if something happened to Lucius, she had some recourse. "I promise, Sirius. I'll contact you if I need help. Of any sort."

He was silent for too long, and Narcissa wondered if he would call her on the half-lie. He knew her too well to expect her to follow through on a promise like that unless things were desperate, after all. Thankfully, he seemed willing to let it go after a bit, and nodded. "All right. I'll hold you to that, then." He smiled, then leaned down and kissed her again, just a soft brush of lips this time. Then he carefully rose and helped her to her feet.

The two dressed and fixed their costumes in silence, Narcissa feeling the weight of it all growing more as she worked to straighten her dress.

Before he pulled his mask back on, he turned to her, but she put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "Don't, Sirius. Please."

He took a breath, and for a moment she thought he would insist regardless, but then he deflated. "All right. This time. But next time…" He tugged her close, kissing her deeply, and she clung to him, wishing there could be a next time. But she knew there wouldn't be. There was too much keeping them apart.

It was better for both of them if this ended here, tonight.

She watched as he pulled on his mask once more, placing his plumed hat back at a jaunty angle, then bowed low to her. "My Queen," he said softly. "It was a true pleasure."

She smiled, then watched as he walked down the path toward the Manor where the party was still growing strong, waiting until he had disappeared before pulling on her own mask to hide her face once more.

* * *

"Mother?"

Narcissa looked up from the letter she had been writing her sister. The war was over now. It was time to repair bridges. Even if some were gone for good, at least this one could still be mended.

Draco was standing in the doorway with a leather-bound book that was far too familiar. She attempted nonchalance, but she knew that Draco wouldn't be fooled. "What is it, darling?"

"That was what I was going to ask you…" He placed it in front of her, an eyebrow raised. "Who is he? And does father know?"

She placed her hands flat on the cover, not needing to open it to recall what was contained within. A year and some months of a life that had almost been. The result of which stood before her, though she had never told the truth to a soul. "I don't know what you mean, Draco."

His eyes narrowed, and even as he began to speak, her cheeks heated as she recognized the words. "'You're a fool if you think he won't catch us. It would be better if you forgot it ever happened…' What happened, mother?"

She'd been so careful after realizing they'd forgotten conception charms that night. She'd seduced Lucius twice the following week. Even she had not been sure her son was not Lucius's. Despite people's constant mention of how much like her side of the family Draco looked. She'd convinced herself he was Lucius's. At least, until his hair had begun to darken when he was four. A quick charm to ensure his hair never darkened more and a quick blood charm convinced her of the truth she'd always dreaded but never spoke aloud. Not even when Sirius himself had confronted her about her pregnancy when she was six months along had she admitted the truth. Sometimes, she wondered if he had taken her at her word. But then, Sirius had always been pigheaded. Surely he had known.

"Nothing, Draco. Just…an old suitor who refused to take no for an answer."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "It seems a good deal more than that, Mother. Napkins? Letters? Pressed flowers? Surely you wouldn't keep such things if he meant nothing… Who was he?"

"It doesn't matter, Draco." She didn't meet his eyes, though, her fingers tracing the pattern embossed into the leather. "I have not seen him in many years."

"You know, at least father was smart enough never to get too involved. He certainly never fell in love with his little…friends. I can't believe you would do this, mother…"

She looked up at him. "I assure you, there was a time when your father grew more attached than he should have as well. I kept mine discrete. It's more than I can say for what he got up to." She stood and picked up the album. "Was there anything else you wanted to accuse me of, Draco?" Her voice was cold, but some things were simply too private to be shared. Most especially her grief at losing the only man she'd ever allowed herself to care about in that way.

Draco looked away, and Narcissa recognized the look as one she had seen so many times on Sirius's face at family gatherings. Her heart constricted, and she nearly missed his question. "Did you love him?" he whispered.

Narcissa closed her eyes, then did what she had always done. Lied with the best part of the truth she could find. "Draco, I loved your father with every bit of myself. The only man I have ever loved more is you."

When she met his eyes, he was looking at her with a stricken expression. Then his arms were curled tight around her. "I love you, mother," he whispered.

She hugged him close, her eyes closing once more. "And I love you, my dragon." She sent out a fleeting thought to wherever Sirius's soul now rested. 'And you, my Musketeer.'

**Author's Note:**

> Actually tempted to write a scene set on October 31, 1981. Not sure if anyone would care, though. Might, if people are interested.


End file.
